Boy Soldiers of the Great War (25 page)

George was carrying two boxes of machine-gun ammunition. He had been posted to the battalion’s machine-gun section and ‘I was anxious to show that I could cope,’ he wrote. What he saw at Loos made him realize that everything he had witnessed hitherto had been nothing more than simply ‘playing about’.

Days after Len Thomas had bombarded the German lines he
too was given the opportunity to walk forward and look at the damage wrought by the guns. In his diary he wrote:

Went down to the trenches. Got in our old first line and into theirs. Dead lying all over the place. In one German trench two dead lying on ground and we have to walk over them. In a machine gun dugout came across dead ’un and cut buttons off his coat. Bags of small ammunition. Fine dugouts with electricity in. Our artillery played hell with trenches … One gun of RFA went galloping into new position and got shelled, one shell blew a wheel off the limber but still they went on past Loos Towers. Behind came a heavy cart pulled by two horses and the driver got hit and fell off and horses went on on their own.

In time the bodies were cleared in places where the advance had captured and held fields that had formerly been no-man’s-land. Where the land remained in dispute, this battlefield clearance was much harder. After the battle had officially finished in mid-October, sixteen-year-old George Adams was back. Hundreds of bodies still lay rotting and, if for no other reason than the smell, they had to be dealt with. George was one of those sent to collect the dead for burial.

As soon as we got in last time we had to go out the front and fetch the bodies in, them from the 25th, and there were some terrible sights. Some as soon as we got hold of them fell to pieces, the first night we got eleven of them in and I was as sick as a dog for the stench was awful, but when we finished we got a good tot of rum and that pulled me round. The next night was a lot worse, we got nine in and four of them had no heads and they were nearly all eaten away by the rats and maggots and they were quite black and you could just see their skeleton showing through their skin. We were taking the last one out of the trench when we lost ourselves and we were wandering around for about four hours before we found ourselves where we started.

The first day of Loos had been costly in human life, and in young life too. It is officially known that at least eighty-six boys aged seventeen and under were killed that day, including Glenny Hale and George Woolfall, both of whom had sailed to France with Dick Trafford. Robert Carr had also been killed; he had just celebrated his eighteenth birthday. Their bodies were found at the time and personal possessions, including letters, photographs, a watch and chain, a Bible, and even penny stamps, were sent home to the next of kin. Richard Woolfall, George’s father, survived the Battle of Loos but was informed in the field of his son’s death and was granted a short leave to return home. The 1/9th King’s Liverpools had got off relatively lightly: they had lost just thirty-nine who had been killed outright or died of wounds. The ages of just over half – twenty-two – are known, of whom five were under age, and a further eight were aged nineteen when they died; five of these had been abroad for over six months. Sadly, the bodies of four out of the five underage soldiers were subsequently lost and their names appear today on the Loos Memorial to the missing – four of over 20,000 missing officers and men killed in the area during the war. Apart from those who died on the day, many more would have died of wounds.

Among the youngest boys known to have died were two aged fifteen: Private Richard Flynn of the 9th Welsh Regiment and Private Ernest Pitman of the 9th Royal Sussex, and another ten boys aged sixteen.

By the time the battle petered out in mid-October, around 15,800 men had been killed or were missing and a further 34,580 wounded. For all the first day’s hopes, the line had advanced only two miles at most, while the village of Hulluch and Hill 70 remained in German hands. The intensity of the fighting on 25 and 26 September was recognized by the subsequent confirmation of ten Victoria Crosses, seven of which were earned on the first day.

*

The failure at Loos was blamed on Sir John French, whose handling of the reserves was deemed to have been the principal reason why the offensive failed. Haig vehemently disagreed with his C.-in-C. about where the reserve should be held, having told French before the battle that he would be committing all available troops in the initial attack. Haig’s battle plans had been compromised and, from early October, he felt he had little option but to highlight the deficiencies of his commanding officer to their political masters back home. Haig wrote in his diary:

I have been more than loyal to French and did my best to stop all criticism of him or his methods. Now, at last, in view of what had happened in the recent battle over the reserves, I had come to the conclusion that it was not fair to the Empire to retain French in command.

Disillusionment with French’s overall competence was growing at home and abroad, and it was only a matter of time, and no little intrigue, before a replacement was made.

George Adams would soon be on his way back to Britain too, for, unbeknown to him, his sojourn at the front was about to be cut short. His parents were in the process of reclaiming him from France. However, there was no recall for other boys who had survived Loos, such as Dick Trafford, Alec Stringer and Ernest Fitchett. Ernest had even managed to pick up some mementoes, including a fine silver watch and gold chain taken from the body of a dead German. ‘I have been offered 100 francs for it by one of our officers, but I would not sell it, for it will be a nice souvenir to keep after the war,’ he wrote to his sister.

While Ernest had come through Loos, he would not live to see the end of the year, never mind the end of the war. For all his luck in surviving full-blown battles, he was wounded doing the
everyday chores of trench maintenance, jobs that all men undertook while in the line. A shrapnel wound in his left thigh, while serious, did not at first appear life-threatening and brief letters sent from No. 2 Stationary Hospital kept his family informed of progress.

26.11.15

Dear Madam

Your brother, Private Fitchett, was brought into this hospital on the 24th with a very bad wound in his left thigh. He had a slight operation yesterday and we hope his wound and general condition will improve.

29.11.15

Dear Madam

I am sorry to have to tell you that your brother’s condition this morning is very serious. It was found necessary to amputate his leg two days ago, and not being very strong at this time, it is a hard struggle for him to get over the effects of such an operation.

29.11.15

Dear Miss Fitchett

Your brother who is in hospital is under my charge, & has asked me to write and tell you about him. He had to have his left leg amputated on Friday last as gangrene had set in. It is very serious still as the infection is still there, though they amputated as high up as they could.

In fact, I do not think he can get well – in God’s mercy he
may
be spared & everything possible is being done for his recovery. I have told him that he might not recover. He is very patient and very resigned to the suffering which he has to undergo when his wound is dressed. I am going to give him Holy Communion, tomorrow morning, St Andrew’s Day.

I do pray that God may spare him. He seems such a nice and such a
good
boy. I am sure your prayers will be the same.

With much sympathy

(Rev) H. J. Watney

2.12.15

Dear Madam

I am very sorry to tell you that your brother died last night. We all feel his death very much, for he was such a sweet dear boy. He was conscious up to the end and had a happy peaceful death. The chaplain was with him a short time before, and I hope that it will be some consolation to you to know that everything possible was done for him.

With every sympathy

M. C. Corbishley (Sister)

December 11th 1915

Dear Miss Fitchett

My sincere sympathy in the loss … He passed away very peacefully about 6.30 p.m., I was with him till 5.30 and did not think he was to be called so soon. He was quite conscious till five minutes before he died, he did not suffer acute pain, but a dull ache all over … I will send you a PC [postcard] Photo of the Cemetery, including your brother’s grave, in the spring. Just now it is all too muddy, and heaps of soil from the next row of graves, but they are beautifully tended. Some ladies put flowers on them every week.

Yours very sincerely

H. J. Watney

PS.
I meant to tell you, Ernie said ‘give my love to both my sisters and tell them I have not suffered much, and they must not grieve too much for me, I know I am safe in the arms of Jesus’.

Seventeen-year-old Ernest was buried in Abbeville Communal Cemetery on 2 December. Three days later, his Commander-in-Chief was told that his resignation was imperative and that General, soon to become Field Marshal, Haig would take command. Sir John French left for London.

8
The Winding Road to Conscription

ADIEU DEAR LAD
WHAT NEED OF TEARS
OR FEARS FOR YOU

2512 Private Leslie Sheffield
17th Battalion Australian Infantry

Killed in Action 26 July 1916, aged 17

Just as military shortcomings were increasingly evident in France, so the political situation at home was in need of serious reappraisal. The recognition that the British economy must be organized for war had dawned only slowly on the Government. It had become imperative for politicians to get involved in the day-to-day running of the wartime economy, no longer leaving its direction to just one man, Lord Kitchener. The initial breakthrough at Loos had shown the importance of a good reserve of munitions, and it was essential to keep the supply flowing if future campaigns were to be successful. Labour, skilled and unskilled, would have to be mobilized and factory production massively expanded.

At the same time, the ‘wastage’, the euphemistic term used to describe losses at the front, had to be replaced by new recruits. The monthly returns showed that a rapidly declining number of men were volunteering for service. Over 1.34 million men had volunteered in the first six months of the war. This figure had
fallen by over 50 per cent in the following six months, with July, August and September 1915 seeing further dramatic falls. Just 16,500 men had been recruited each week in September, at a time when the army calculated that it required the enlistment of 30,000 men every seven days for the infantry and a further 5,000 a week for ancillary services such as the Army Service Corps and the Army Ordnance Corps.

As laudable as voluntary enlistment was, essential war industries had to be protected or else manufacturing would be robbed of skilled labour, ultimately undermining the war effort. A contemporary memorandum showed an awareness of this:

It is realized that measures must be taken to secure a supply of recruits sufficient in number to meet the ever-increasing demands upon the army and at the same time drawn from sources which would produce the least possible dislocation of the vital services and industries of the country generally, and in particular of the supply of munitions.

Central control was critical, and for this to be efficient there was an overriding requirement for the Government to compile an accurate record of the human resources of the nation. A National Register of both sexes aged fifteen to sixty-five was proposed. It would be a snapshot of the nation’s available manpower, taken on a day yet to be decided. The memorandum speculated:

The very fact of the compilation of such a national record would stimulate patriotism and bring home to everybody the duty of doing something for the public good.

Apart from indicating to the Government who was patriotically serving the country and who was actually doing work ‘essential to the stability of the community’, the scheme would point out ‘slackers’, the public’s favoured term to describe those who,
though old enough and fit enough, steadfastly refused to don a khaki uniform.

It would be a legal requirement under Registration for everyone liable to fill out a form in full, giving specific details such as address, marital status, number of dependants, occupation and skills. Failure to comply, or supplying false information, would result in a hefty fine or imprisonment or even both. The results would create an inventory that would enable recruiting officers to compile returns showing all the men available for enlistment in each county, city or borough.

The bill was quickly passed and given Royal Assent in mid-July 1915. Exactly a month later, on 15 August – Registration Day – forms were distributed by a small army of 150,000 patriotic citizens who gave their time freely to deliver and subsequently pick up every form over the following three days.

The Government had been careful to present Registration as a proudly patriotic measure, but inevitably there was considerable public anxiety as to the actual and immediate ramifications of revealing all to the authorities. The vast majority of civilians were utterly unused to central Government impinging so directly on their lives, and the effect must have been unnerving. The Reverend Andrew Clark, a country vicar living in Essex, was a good barometer of local feeling. He kept a daily diary throughout the war and never missed an entry. Three days before Registration, he jotted down the remarks of one well-respected parishioner who had told him that ‘in his part of the parish the women were terribly afraid that the Register was the beginning of a plan to take away their menfolk’. In fact, their fears were well founded. The Government was taking its first step towards conscripting by legal means men who were deemed fit to serve in one capacity or another, but who had not yet volunteered.